


The Choices We Make

by MWolfe13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon deaths, End of War, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 20:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19730776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MWolfe13/pseuds/MWolfe13
Summary: Sirius helps Hermione remember all is not clear in war.





	The Choices We Make

**Author's Note:**

> “It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.” - J. K. Rowling
> 
> Sirius Black, Hermione Granger
> 
> WC: 959

“Harry, how could you?”

The words were asked quietly, but her tone was far from gentle. She bit out the words, her mind still whirling over the debacle at the Ministry hours prior.

The Malfoy’s...free...all on Harry’s testimony.

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, sighing in the face of his friend’s seething anger. He’d already heard it from Ron in a public row that was sure to make the papers tomorrow. “I thought you of all people would understand.”

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Hermione spat out the question.

“I owed Narcissa Malfoy a debt. You know I would not be alive if she hadn’t lied to him, Hermione.” Harry implored her to see reason. “I think making sure I did everything possible to ensure her family’s freedom is good enough, don’t you think?”

“ _Good enough?_ ” Hermione was incredulous. “Harry, they were set completely free! Not just Narcissa, but Lucius and Draco too. There will be no Azkaban time, no magic parole, nothing!” She threw her hands up in the air, disgusted by the entire situation. “The great Harry Potter spoke, and the Wizengamot did his bidding. Unbelievable.”

She whirled around, taking in the shocked expression on her best friend’s face, the hurt that was barely held in check. “Mione,” he whispered.

Hermione would feel guilty about all this later, maybe, but right now she needed to get away before she really said something she’d regret. Shaking her head, she turned around and fled up the stairs into the welcoming walls of the Black Family Library. She practically flung herself on the antique couch, curling up in the corner with her legs drawn up to her chest. She closed her arms around her knees, pressing her face into her thighs as she breathed heavily.

She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t even think of the name Malfoy or Lestrange without being flung back into horrible memories. The ugly scar that dissected Hermione’s arm was not the only gift she had taken away from her capture and interrogation. She was plagued by nightmares every time she went to sleep, and just seeing Lucius Malfoy today had almost pushed her into a panic attack. She’d honestly felt that today would have closed a painful chapter in their lives. Hermione had believed she’d be able to start healing knowing they were in prison for the rest of their existence.

“Kitten,” a voice spoke softly.

Hermione lifted her head at the familiar nickname. Sirius Black gave her a small smile from the portrait hanging above the fireplace. His eyes were sympathetic, no doubt the entire household knew what her grievances were by now. It still amazed her that magical portraits could feel so alive even though the people in them were not. “Sirius, he…”

“I know,” he informed her. 

She felt tears run down her face, angrily rubbed at them. “How could he, Sirius? They all went free, _all of them_.”

“Narcissa Malfoy saved his life.”

Hermione groaned, “Okay, fine, but Lucius and Draco Malfoy _did not_. They were marked Death Eaters! Lucius Malfoy supported that mad man through two wars! Two of them! Just because he decided to prioritize his family at the end instead of trying to kill us all does not mean he is in the clear!”

“You’re right.” Sirius didn’t argue with her.

“And that stupid prat,” Hermione raged. “He was racist throughout school, and he’s racist now. How many times did he wish us all dead? His precious Dark Lord wasn’t all he was led to believe, so now he thinks he can play the victim.”

“Maybe he was a victim, Kitten.”

Clearly, everyone there was something going around. It had affected Harry and the Wizengamot, and now it was affecting the portraits. “How can you say that? Didn’t you use to say that Malfoy was an evil git? Everyone knows that the Malfoy's practiced dark magic heavily. What makes you think Draco Malfoy was a victim?”

“Your family doesn’t determine what you’re going to grow up to be,” Sirius told her sternly. “I’ve seen witches and wizards that came from families so firmly on our side that turned to Dark Magic like a beloved friend. Don’t forget that my family was as dark and twisted as any family can get. I wasn’t evil, and neither is Andy.”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped, her anger deflating at his words. “Exceptions.”

“That’s right.” Sirius smiled gently. “I think, given enough time and the right influences, Draco Malfoy could be the exception to his family’s dark path. His experiences will have shown him that, and his self-preservation will see to the rest.”

She’d sprung off the couch and started to pace when he’d set her off, but now Hermione padded to the fireplace. She leaned against the mantle, tilting her face up so that she could maintain eye contact. “We miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Sirius sighed. “You’ll never know how much I regret I didn’t live to see you come of age. Do you remember the promise I made you?”

Hermione smirked though her eyes were sad as she spoke, “Just wait, Jailbait.” It hadn’t been a promise, not really, not unless you’d seen the meaning in his eyes at the time.

“One more year,” he recalled fondly. “And the only person we’d have had to worry about was a hex happy Molly Weasley.”

She didn’t speak, and neither did he. Her mind replayed Sirius’ words, letting her rational side overcome the emotional state she’d been unable to get out of. He was right. The family didn’t choose the wizard’s path. Change was one of the things they’d fought for. Now, it was time for everyone to make their own choices that determined who they would be.


End file.
